


Working

by Fairleigh



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, First Time, Jedi Rey (Star Wars), Male Eggpreg, Mpreg, Non-Human Genitalia, Oviposition, Sex Work, Sex Worker Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-09-27 09:31:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20405512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fairleigh/pseuds/Fairleigh
Summary: “OK, Rey, tell you what,” Kylo said. “I’ll go with you … if and only if we get to fuck first.”





	Working

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Omnicat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnicat/gifts).

Kylo Ren was reaching for the proverbial panic button even before the door to the room had slid fully shut.

“No! Absolutely not! Get out! Get! Out!” he shouted, the pitch of his voice rising and becoming unaccountably shrill in his distress.

The woman (young, reasonably attractive, potentially a great lay if it weren’t for, uh, well) furrowed her brow in confusion. “I paid in advance for your services for the entire night,” she said reasonably. “What’s your objection?”

“You _reek_,” Kylo hissed. When she tried to approach him, he retreated the same amount of distance, like she was possessed of an aura which physically repelled him. Given how small the room was, this essentially meant that they were turning circles around the bed like actors in a bad slapstick comedy silent holo.

“I, pardon?” The confused expression twisted into one of mild annoyance at the presumed insult. The woman took another step forward. “I’m not one to waste water frivolously, but I’ll have you know that I bathed just this aftern — ”

Kylo took another step back and snapped, temper fraying, “No, you _fool_! You reek of _him_ …! Luke Skywalker! I’d know that stench _anywhere_ …!”

“I, oh.” The storm clouds building on the woman’s brow cleared. “Yes, Master Skywalker sent me to rescue you. He’s my teacher. And your mother, too, she misses — ”

“This is the life I’ve chosen for myself,” he interrupted before the woman could start on his poor, supposedly sainted Mother Dearest. “I don’t need ‘rescuing.’ Did ‘Master Skywalker’ ” — Kylo’s voice dripped with bitter poison at _that _name — “happen to tell you why I left?”

“He says you think he tried to kill you in your sleep.”

Huh. Well, that was more blunt honesty from Uncle Luke that he would’ve expected. “Close. I don’t think he tried to kill me. He _did_ try to kill me.”

The woman shrugged; the semantics didn’t seem matter to her overmuch. “If you prefer. Regardless, he’s said to tell you that he wants you back. _They_ want you back. Oh right, and Master Skywalker wants to apologize.”

“Yeah, sure.” There was so much old pain in this subject; he knew his sarcasm wasn’t concealing it fully. “And if he wants to apologize so badly, why not come in person? Why send you? And just who are you, anyway?”

“I’m Rey,” the woman — Rey — said. “And, as to your other questions, Master Skywalker thought you’d be more comfortable seeing me than him. Also, you don’t accept male clients.”

Kylo ran his hand over his face. His annoyance was fast decaying into simple exhaustion. It was all true. The mechanics of sex with other men didn’t particularly appeal to him when sex with women was so easy by comparison: provided he kept to the birth control regimen, all he had to do was lie back and take it. Then, take the credits. Simple.

He’d decided he wanted no part of either the light or the dark. Force, shmworce. Sex work was a great solution. Here in the brothel, he opened his legs and closed his eyes. He didn’t have to get involved in the family psychodrama.

“Look, Ben — ” Rey began.

“It’s Kylo Ren.”

“Fine. Kylo. Whatever you prefer,” Rey crossed her arms and favored him with a nerf-stubborn glower. “I’ve been sent to bring you home. I’ve found you. I’m not leaving without you.”

Kylo wasn’t really listening to what Rey was saying anymore. Instead, his attention had wandered to her breasts, which were pert and firm and nicely accentuated by the arms folded underneath. Hmm. She really _was_ attractive. Such a shame she was so ridiculously powerful and light-side-smelly. Kylo didn’t like his odds against her; knowing his luck, she’d probably beat him on her first try. And such a shame too that she was one of Uncle Luke’s good little Jedi apprentices, which meant she probably didn’t — hmm.

Realistically, his career as Kylo Ren was at an end, now that he’d been discovered. He could read the writing on the wall well enough. So he might as well enjoy the time he had left. Why the hell not?

“OK, Rey, tell you what,” Kylo said. “I’ll go with you … if and only if we get to fuck first.”

Rey froze and stared at him. “I, pardon?”

“We. Fuck. Then I go. With. You.” Protecting her virtue or completing her mission — which did she value more?

Rey blinked and smiled. The toothsome smile was surprisingly predatory, and Kylo may have felt just the tiniest flicker of doubt. “You promise?”

~*~*~

It took quite a lot of foreplay to get Rey in the mood, but once her ovipositor had everted fully, things started progressing quite rapidly.

She was thick and long and penetrated him with ease. That first slide into Kylo’s brood pouch was luscious, and when she began to thrust, artless, inexperienced, but unquestionably enthusiastic, the sensations became positively decadent. Ahhh, the stretch, the friction — ! The slick caress against the sweet spot deep within that made him whimper and ache — ! He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, dug his heels into the small of her back, and lifted his hips to meet her at the apex of every thrust. He was panting; she was panting; they were both panting; the pressure was building; and in a few seconds, they were going to come —

Rey climaxed first with a wet explosion inside Kylo that expelled the first of her eggs. They both moaned as the second began to travel along her ovipositor, stretching them both as it went, and finally dropping into Kylo’s brood pouch with another gush of hot, thick fluid. The third followed immediately — and the fourth —

Oh, oh, ohhh, he felt full, full, _full_, full nearly to bursting, and when the fifth and final egg dropped, that’s when his muscles seized and he came, spraying his semen all over the soft, permeable shells of the eggs laid in his brood pouch and Rey’s ovipositor as well, causing her to shudder and resume her thrusts anew —

Someone was shrieking in ecstasy. Kylo didn’t know if it was her or him or both of them.

~*~*~

Kylo lay flat on the bed, gazing sightlessly up at the ceiling and marinating in the mellow warmth of the afterglow of the thorough fucking he’d just received. He felt boneless and deliciously full. The birth control should prevent proper fertilization and brood pouch implantation, but he figured he was going to have to make triple-certain he took his meds for the next couple of weeks, that was for sure.

Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he and Rey would have some beautiful, _powerful_ babies togeth —

A drawer slammed shut, rudely interrupting what were becoming some very pleasant thoughts indeed. Rey, who apparently didn’t believe in post-coital cuddling, was already up and about, bustling around the bedroom, collecting his meager possessions, and dumping them haphazardly into a sack.

“I think that’s everything. Time to go,” she announced. “Get dressed.”

Kylo didn’t move to obey. “Whatever happened to sitting back and enjoying the moment?” he asked with a sigh. “Not very Jedi of you.”

Rey rolled her eyes and snorted; she obviously didn’t think he was entitled to an opinion about what was and what wasn’t ‘very Jedi’ of her. “I’m on the chrono, remember? Maybe next time.”

“Ohhh, so are you saying there’s going to be a next time? Really? You paid for an entire night. Why not make that next time now? I’m sure Mom and Uncle Luke can wait till morning.” Kylo was trying not to wheedle. He almost succeeded.

Rey halted her businesslike movements. She dropped the sack stuffed full with the sum total of his worldly possessions onto the floor. The predatory look was back. “OK, Ben,” she said, “tell you what … ”

He didn’t bother correcting her about his name again.


End file.
